Cw Injury - Blog Posts

To the folks who've come from the fic, hello hellooo and welcome! :D

And to those who haven't, hello still :3

CW: art contains blood and injury/gore (stab wounds)

Our boy is going through it 😔 (but when does he not)

Dragonji and Foxxian first meeting

Moon 5 Part 4

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Fogfreckle’s body hits the ground hard, rolling halfway down the slope as Moonstar slides down after him, pebbles skidding out from under her paws as she rushes to his side.

“Fogfreckle?” Moonstar’s voice wavers as she reaches him in a spray of stones, hovering a scraped paw gently over his bleeding body as she hesitates. He’s just lying there, chest rising and falling shallowly, as blood oozes from thick punctures along his back that stains his pale fur red. Should she roll him over? What if his bones are broken? He’s not dead, by the grace of StarClan, but she’s no medicine cat – she has no idea how close he is to death or how much worse she’ll make it if she tries to move him.

The circling shadow of the eagle drifts over them with another ear-splitting, screeching cry, and Moonstar’s fear makes the decision for her. She grabs Fogfreckle by the scruff of the neck and begins to haul him farther down the slope. She doesn’t want to injure him more than he already is, but she knows it’ll be worse if they’re caught out here on the open mountainside once the larger predators in the area catch scent of his blood and come to investigate.

Fogfreckle doesn’t make a single nose of pain as she pulls him through the dirt. She drags him as far as a tumbled collection of boulders and stones, squeezing into a space between the rocks that is just big enough for Moonstar to fit her body through and drag Fogfreckle in after her. The space is tight, without a lot of room to move, and Moonstar has to swallow panic and bile as the walls seem to press in around them. 

“This is best,” she says aloud to herself, “foxes or fishers can’t reach us in here. It has to be here.” The self-soothing doesn’t do much to abate her claustrophobia, but Fogfreckle makes a pained noise in response to her voice and all thoughts of herself vacate her mind.

Fogfreckle whimpers as Moonstar licks his wounds clean, flinching as she clears dirt from the punctures with her rough tongue. She doesn’t say anything while she works, but she nearly sags in relief with every flinch and whimper from her brother. He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s alive and he’s okay.

“Stay here,” she says at last when she’s cleaned most of the blood and debris from his fur. It’s still oozing sluggishly from his wounds, bright and wet. “I need to find cobwebs. Do you think you broke anything?”

“I don’t think so,” Fogfreckle murmurs, voice weak and faint with exhaustion. 

“Reckless,” Moonstar murmurs back, licking his forehead once. “Alright. Okay. Stay safe. Please, please, stay safe. I’ll get us help, okay? I’ll find someone to help.”

Moonstar scrambles out from under the claustrophobic press of rocks and pelts back up the mountain, swerving trees and boulders and leaping roots as she climbs higher and higher. Panic and grief strangles her thundering heart, pushing her to run faster and faster until her legs are burning. She reaches a break in the pines, a ledge buffeted by the wind, and yowls at the top of her lungs until her voice runs ragged.

“HELP! SOMEBODY, HELP! PLEASE! HELP!”

Her voice echoes back to her across the mountain, mimicking her fear. When it fades, there is only the sound of the mountain. Wind in her ears, the rustle of leaves in the trees, insects that hum in the sun. A sob escapes her, then a full blown wail, and her body collapses beneath her as the lack of response presses against her.

They are alone. At sunrise, she awoke as the leader of this clan, and at sundown she is so terribly, horribly, awfully alone.

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Moon 3, Part 2

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Without a second of hesitation, Moonpaw takes off over the mountain, mouth open to follow Fogpaw’s scent as her paws fly over the rocks. Her legs are screaming, but adrenaline overpowers her exhaustion.

“Fogpaw?” She yowls. “Fogpaw!”

“I’m here.” Fogpaw’s voice sounds from somewhere nearby, strained but blessedly alive. Moonpaw turns in the direction of the sound and darts around the edge of an outcropping of rock, freezing as the sour scent of blood fills her nostrils.

“Fogpaw?”

“I told you, I’m right here,” He hisses. He’s half on the ground, struggling to pull himself to his paws, so Moonpaw goes to press her body to his to help him up. His pale fur is stained and streaked with blood from long gashes that mar his flank and there are clumps of fur stuck between his claws.

“What happened to you?” Moonpaw is terrified. The scent of blood reminds her of her last night at home and she struggles not to gag. “It smells like other cats.”

“It was other cats,” he spits, leaning heavily on her as she guides them back towards where she first spotted the rabbit. He limps, wincing with each step. “Remember those cats we met up with at the border? They’re using our hunting grounds.” Fogpaw’s voice shakes with anger. “I confronted them, but they said we don’t have a clan anymore which means that the territory is theirs. They said that if I tried to stop them, they’d make me pay. Well,” he laughs humorlessly, “I tried, but there were too many of them. I’m lucky that what little honor they have left was enough to stop them from killing me.”

Thank StarClan. She can’t lose her brother, too. He’s the only thing she has left. “You’re too reckless,” Moonpaw scolds. Fogpaw’s muzzle twists into a scowl, but he doesn’t deny it. “We have to leave, Fogpaw. We need to find somewhere new. We can rebuild NimbusClan, but it can’t be here.”

He looks at her, his eyes going wide and round. Slowly, a determined sheen comes over them. “Alright. Lead the way, Moonpaw.”

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Some more declawed Shadow except he’s happy for once

At least in two of these.

Heated blanket for aching paws!

Part 1. Part 2

Declawed

Small little idea of Shadow being declawed during his time in the lab which very much effects him.

Part 2 part 3

Unhappy New Year 😭

As everyone celebrates New Year’s Eve 🎉 and prepares to welcome a new year filled with hope and joy, I find myself alone in the darkness of pain and suffering 😢. The shelling by the occupation's aircraft has destroyed my home 🏚️ and deeply wounded me, as shrapnel from the explosion has entered my body.

I underwent surgery 🏥, but unfortunately, it was unsuccessful due to the **collapse of the healthcare system** in Gaza. The doctors told me that the only solution is to travel to a country with an advanced healthcare system 🌍 to remove the shrapnel, but the road to recovery is not easy.

I have created a fundraising campaign 💖, but so far I have only been able to raise **1,000/10,000 Euros** needed. This amount is not enough to cover the treatment costs.

**Tonight, I wish that all friends would donate whatever they can, so I can expedite my treatment process.** While everyone celebrates the beginning of a new year 🥳, I am living with unbearable pain all the time. I kindly ask you to donate what you can and to share my posts with your friends and family, as everyone can play a role in saving my life 🙏.

**Every euro makes a difference 💶, and every share gives me hope.** I thank you from the bottom of my heart ❤️ for your support and assistance during these difficult moments.

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Fadel the injured to undergo surgery and live safely, organized by Fadel Aldani

My name is Fadel Al-Dani, a third-year IT student, 23 years old… Fadel Aldani needs your support for Help Fadel the injured to undergo surge

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stages of ENA’s degradation

Mary and Son

I really liked Mouthwashing’s whole story arc between Anya and Curly with the whole [redacted] debacle, so I decided to take a piece from my childhood religion and doodle a little thing with them!

Reference under the cut!

Fallen Down into Deaths Embrace.

Okay,,,,so I finally cracked and threw in my towel by writing a Reaper Sans x reader fic for the first time. For context, reader isn't a normal person and is in a place similar to the void, which explains some things within the snippet of a writing I've been dabbling in. Anything written in () btw is for you to understand what's being said.

CW: light descriptions of vomiting, injury, blood, and of the sorts. It's not super descriptive, but I still wanted to plant it here. Stay safe loves

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Beyond the blistering anguish, you realized something. Maybe it was the smell of scorched cloth and bones, or the rough earth beneath your crumpled body hurting your delicate skin. But, it finally dawned on you at that moment that you were truly and utterly alone. 

Where did everything go wrong? 

This new sensation felt foreign to you, it felt…unwelcoming. How could this have happened to you? It seemed like your chest would burst, your tongue heavy as vomit tickled the back of your throat. You didn’t think that your very bones would make you tremble, the feeling of being hot and cold all at once disorienting.

It felt overwhelming and nauseating to even think, let alone understand everything that happened to you. It felt like even the smallest twitch from your muscles would send you wanting to sob again. That the smallest of movements would lead you into excruciating pain. But, you had nothing to give, not anymore. Your throat felt raw and scratched, struggling to inhale the ash infecting your skin as you helplessly submitted to a coughing fit.

Saliva dribbled down your chin as your body curled in as much as it could. Your environment did not show you any mercy as you clawed at your sides. You screwed your eyes shut, ash fluttering near your eyelashes as you fought against it from nestling itself in your eyes. This sucked. 

Why did you do it? It felt like those rings around the back of your head mocked you, your skull ringing. This sight before you, as blurred as it was, was wrong. It was wrong, it was wrong, it was wrong. Your body doesn’t look like this. Not this pathetic sight, no. But you didn’t even need to open your eyes to know. 

You could already picture the way you wanted to ruin the ones that caused your disheveled state, as shameful as it was. This brought a laugh out of you, but not a pleasant one. It died quickly as you regretted it, coughing once again as you swore that blood was now on your hand.

Would those Gods laugh at you now? Would the sight of you bring a good chuckle or hysterical fit with them? Or a pity party since they ruined your life. Maybe that was all you were good for now. You were no longer worth much of anything, anymore. A forgotten memory now. 

Your thoughts were abruptly cut off, however, by the screams clawing past that ringing and now finally echoing behind your eyes as you internally screamed. Oh, yes, that's right. There weren't the only ones you loved around to help you now. What embraced you instead was the dented crater your body made and the scent of burnt vomit stimulating your senses. 

It was once so bright, where did that warmth and light go? You already knew the answer, your bloody and dusted clothes feeling so tattered beneath the cracks of your fingers. You didn’t have the pleasure of knowing what would happen to you for everything that happened. So when it eventually crashed in your face, you felt bitter and regretful. You were too blinded by rage, and your temper got the better of you.

Well, that sure helped you in the long run, didn’t it? 

Your temper sure wasn’t helping your flooded migraine either. If you thought any longer it felt like you would combust. If only you could do something about it. If only you weren’t stuck here, punished for the sins you’ve committed. If only you were given a swift erase. The sense of dread built inside of you only worsened as the waves of hatred and wrath overwhelmed you.

You would have mistaken them as your own, but you knew that your rage wasn’t the same as this. Or it shouldn't be, at least. You knew better, the urge to sob from everything being too much since you knew that this anger was in fact only yours. If being stuck in this black emptiness was what you were going to endure now, you shifted your thoughts to focus on that fact. Would the loneliness torment you, or your grief?

You felt…determined to not let what happened to you occur again. Not like you would have the chance to, anyways, as you were stuck down here. You couldn’t even do much down here, let alone understand what would happen to you. 

Nothing can protect you down here now, except for yourself. Lord only knows if you’ll have the chance to build your strength back up, though. It was impossible to know, maybe you’d endure the worst of the worst before disintegrating into nothing.

As if your mind was reeled in by a fish hook, the smell of…something sweet invites itself into your senses. It was a strong contrast to your environment, and it only made you feel dizzier as you struggled to look up. Whatever it was, you tried not to curse under your breath.

Your body stiffened, gagging slightly as you winced from the attempt to move. Managing a shuddering breath, you squeezed your eyes shut. You could already guess that you would be face to face with something like this inevitably, but you didn’t think that it would be so soon. If you had some strength to you, at least you would’ve had a chance to fight.

How cruel the Gods were, to not even spare you peace of mind. You heard the sound of light steps hitting gravel as they approached, the smell only becoming stronger the closer they neared. At least this seemed to overwhelm your pain, if only the slightest. If this soul had even the most minor sense of mercy, maybe you could go painlessly. 

Something seemed to graze against your cheek, cold yet smooth like porcelain. 

Was that... You felt the thumb of their hand rub your cheek hesitantly as if testing your reaction. You only winced in response, your eyes forcing themselves to stay shut. Almost tenderly, another hand scooped to the other side of your face as they lifted your head. 

You attempted to open your eyes finally, your breath quickening. They soon widened, however, as you stared at the figure before you. He was beautifully terrifying, that was the only way you could describe him. With wide sockets and gentle eyelights that felt so comforting in this horrid place, it was hard to look away. It was funny really, seeing as he looked just like a skeleton. You should've questioned your descriptions, if you could even place why his gaze felt so comforting in the first place.

His sockets were pronounced with a light blue eyeliner, eyelights a very faint white of a creamy pearl. There was silver jewelry on his phalanges as they clinked together,  Even if you could hardly make out anything about his outfit, you could see the fine clothing fitting his frame perfectly of black robes and silk. Yet, you found yourself struggling to find the finer details as his gloved hands moved your head to look at him.

Even if he was crouched down before you, now taking in your state, it was obvious he was much taller when standing. Almost inhumanly tall, though that wasn’t saying much. You already knew where you were, but this didn't ease the ball of fear still dwelling inside your chest. His eyes were studying you, silent. You didn't care though not when your eyes locked with what was behind him. Wings, so soft and white, a harsh contrast. There had to at least be six of them, folded only partially before they stretched out wide around you.

You could hardly muster a word before your body betrayed you, your body buffering as it once more released another coughing hazard in his direction. He stiffened, if only slightly as he tilted his head up to avoid spit hitting his face. He set you back down, sliding you back on the ground with minor struggle as he pulled away. "....u're…ot…supposed…be…ere…re you?” (You're not supposed to be here, are you?)

Tears stung your eyes and you only slightly felt confused as he started unclipping part of his robes. His movements were languid, yet precise as he finally released a soft sigh at the extra layer of clothing no longer restricting his movements. He seemed to be muttering something, but you were too disoriented to understand him. 

His shoulders slacked as you felt a weight press into you. His coat instantly looked dirtier, blood and dirt tainting it as you took fistfuls of the coat close. It instantly brought a sense of comfort, and you pulled it closer to you without much thought. You instantly were enveloped with the smell of rain and something akin to fresh earth.

He seemed content with himself as he started tucking the coat around you. You didn’t like to admit it, but now that you felt less exposed with the coat over you, you didn’t seem to pay much attention to what he was doing. You could only do so much as your face buried itself in the softness and warmth of the polyester under your cracked fingers.

You tried to make out what he was muttering, but he seemed to have stopped as you suddenly felt something firm wrap securely around your body. You could hardly struggle, let alone understand that he was now lifting you into his arms. 

He softly hushed your croaks of complaint, your vision slowly growing fuzzy around the edges of your sight. There seemed to now be gentleness in his eyes as he pressed you closer to his chest. One arm was wrapped underneath you, the other looped over as his hand rested on your shoulder as he started to stand. 

Almost immediately, your hands moved forward as you pathetically tried to move away from him. Even as he held you, your hand moved to his chest and pushed as you bit down on your tongue. It was pointless, though. He hardly budged, only squeezing you closer to him as his voice reached your ears. He looked at you almost sympathetically, but he stood either way. 

“Shh….ts…ay….keep-...afe,” (Shh, it's okay, I'll keep you safe.)

Now that he was standing, he swiftly moved the coat over you and started to move forward. It was a strange feeling, his tall stature almost alarming as your eyes looked down. He had to be at least 7-8 feet tall, and his body seemed to float as he moved quickly as he kept speaking. Something something something or whatever, it wasn't your top priority at the moment though.

You had given up fighting, your body going limp as you tried to hold onto whatever you had left of your consciousness. He felt warm pressed against you, one arm moving over you comfortingly as he rubbed your body. It wasn't in any way doing much for you nonetheless, only feeling numb from the previous pain inflicted on you. After trying to grab at the slipping thoughts in your mind, you tried your best to speak. 

Well, as best as you could anyway. The ringing in your ears refused to leave you alone as you barely felt your throat speak. You must have said something because he immediately looked down, tilting his head slightly. He faltered, if only for a moment before he stopped walking altogether. You must have spoken loudly enough though, which was something.

“...oul…ctured…ease….eep,” (your soul looks fractured, please get some sleep) It hurt, it really did. You were gasping to regain your breath, though it feels like every breath you took set your ribs on fire. Your mind was going blank, so you blink again, hearing other noises but not currently making sense of any of them. You wince a little as he speaks again. It feels uncomfortable and weird in his hold, but you're really in no condition nor do you have the will to fight it. 

Stars above, you're really tired. 

The fuzziness in your vision grew as your eyes fluttered shut. He did feel…nice, comforting to some extent. You had sunken more into the coat wrapped around you and felt lightheaded as you could hear your raspy breath over the faint sounds of what seemed to be a soft hush that mimicked actual speaking. And finally, you let your body succumb to sleep. What else could you do, anyway?

You poor thing, but don't fret. Reaper will make sure to take care of you, little dove.

“The foe stalks him at every turn / whispering pestilence and plague / whispering endings and dreaming.” Made for the pathologic 15/1st anniversary event! In collab with  @yuliciagames honestly her writing inspired this whole piece :). Please go check out her part here

Bruised and bloodied my rat bastard